


turn off all the lights, let the morning come

by ladyofdecember



Category: The Venture Bros
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Spoilers through Season 7 Episode 2 Only!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-15 21:02:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15421536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofdecember/pseuds/ladyofdecember
Summary: He was sitting there on the couch, unblinking, just doing that thing where all the color of the world drains away and he's just there, floating, meaninglessly.





	turn off all the lights, let the morning come

**Author's Note:**

> At the time of this posting, we have only Season 7 Episode 2 so there's been a lot of assumptions made here about the events that happened. I basically just wanted to illustrate the point that Rusty didn't do great with his brother's death and to have his father's (assumed) death again, it might break him. I also adore Brock and him together and wanted to write some good hurt/comfort stuff.
> 
> "And the worst part is  
> Before it gets any better  
> We're headed for a cliff  
> And in the free fall I will realize  
> I'm better off when I hit the bottom"  
> -Turn It Off by Paramore

He was sitting there on the couch, unblinking, just doing that thing where all the color of the world drains away and he's just there, floating, meaninglessly. 

“Doc?”

The universe was swirling behind him, he just knew it, if he turned and looked the colors would all be there sucking away down into a deep, dark hole. Life was unfair. Life was... an endless bottom.

“Doc!”

He still had the taste of blood in his mouth, that harsh, metallic copper taste playing all over his tongue. He wanted to spit it out somewhere but the feeling reminded him he was still alive and so he just continued sitting there.

Suddenly, a hand, gently placed, on his left shoulder, trying to draw his eyes and his gaze to the other's. It was Brock, because of course it was, and he was peering intently down into his brown ones with bright blue ones of his own. The hand gripped his shoulder hard and gave him a little shake which was good because the bodyguard had been talking but his attention had strayed completely.

“Brock?” He asked hollowly and the blonde frowned deeper, if that was even possible.

“Doc... are you... I mean... “ He trailed off, eyes averted away.

Instead of continuing, of being gentle and calming, the large, muscular man surged off the couch and began pacing madly around their living room. Rusty followed him distantly, wondering what the probability of this being a dream was... a nightmare.

His pacing seemed to quicken and he turned and made angry little punches into the wall nearby as he passed it, back and forth, to and fro.

Still Rusty's tired eyes followed him and he stayed sat where he was silently watching.

Finally, Brock halted in front of him and just stared down angrily at the scientist. And for a moment, he was confused, unsure of the anger being directed his way. It was replaced then by falling completely from his face, the color draining away too.

“Doc, you... you almost died tonight.” He said it like it needed to be said, though both men were well aware of the facts and the events that had led them here, upstairs to the living room of the penthouse.

Rusty's eyes glazed over as he pondered just what would have happened had he died. 'Good... ' a voice in his mind uttered bitterly, surprising even him at the harshness of the word. His mind drifted only briefly to the boys before righting itself once more back to the man in front of him. 

He shrugged, unable to say much more at the moment. The universe was still back there, threatening to suck him in, although some of the colors had begun to seep back in to the living room.

“You... you don't understand, I... “ Brock let his words fall away as he began pacing once more.

Feeling numb, Rusty tried to sit up a bit straighter, tried to focus on where he was, the here and now. He shook his head of some of the darker thoughts threatening to swell up in him and ran a hand over his eyes tiredly.

The blonde man came to sit beside him, at least he felt the movement of the couch and assumed as much. He was too tired for this right now. He was... he needed to go to bed.

“Doc... “ Brock said again, intently peering at the man, his friend of twenty-some odd years, his so-called employer for many more.

The pleading in the younger man's voice was enough to force the scientist to remove his hand and turned to face him.

“I don't know what I would'a done. I don't... I don't... “

Rusty stared at him unwavering, almost not perceiving him at all, his eyes haunted and empty. And then, suddenly, everything came back to him and he could taste the blood in his mouth even stronger.

He remembered the reveal of his father still being alive. He remembered the way it felt to almost hope again. He remembered the urge to ask him a million different questions and how his heart pounded in his chest.

He remembered the loud noises coming from the side of them, the sight of his long-time friend White rushing in with his ax. 

He remembered the way it felt to have everything just click into place finally, like all his wishes had been granted, only to have them quickly ripped away.

But most of all, he remembered the haunting look on his father's anguished face.

Hot tears poured down his cheeks as he began to wake up and almost come back to the reality that surrounded him at present. And then there were those big, calloused hands once more gripping at him tightly and bringing him closer.

He began to mumble nonsense into the black t-shirt clad shoulder of his bodyguard as tears soaked the fabric and dripped down the tan, buff bicep. 

“Doc... I... I'm just happy you're alive.” The man was saying, hugging him tighter and closer than he could ever remember him doing in their long, tangled history of whatever the fuck this was. 

Rusty clutched closer to the man, moving to press his face into the comfortable space of collarbone and shoulder, tears still pouring out.

“When the building started to shake and... I thought it was gonna fall, I... “ Brock trailed off again, hugging the man tighter and tighter, almost trying to match the tightness of his voice.

After a moment or two of silence, the super scientist leaned back, needing even more comfort and solace from the man. He looked into his blue eyes pleadingly. “It's like I had a family again. I mean... my father has been alive this whole time. He... he's been there, around, nearby and I... I didn't know.”

“You couldn't have known.”

“I had him back and now... now he's gone again. First my brother, now my father. Now I'm alone again because that's just how it is for me, I guess.” He continued, erupting in to violent sobs, the force shaking his shoulders.

Brock moved closer to wrap an arm around them and steady their movements. He leaned in towards the scientist, staring until the bespectacled man met his gaze as well. 

“Hey. You have a family. And we're not gonna disappear.”

Searching the eyes of the bodyguard, Rusty felt himself relax a bit at the closeness and warmth of the arm around him. His mind recalled Brock sending the boys off to give them space, remembered the absolute panic and shock displayed on the normally reserved face of the warrior that he was.

The boys were fine, everyone, everyone was shockingly fine after the chaos. Well, for the most part. The blood in his mouth was still there but better to remind him of the life he still had he supposed.

And then, Rusty smiled, a weepy sort of reserved one, but a smile none-the-less. “Thank you, Brock. I know. Thank you.”

He righted himself, sitting up a little straighter as if to remind himself just who he was. This was how it was. His life was hard but it was never anything he couldn't handle. He was who he was.

Just as he was going to stand up, head upstairs and get on with the night, the man beside him launched himself towards him, clutching him with two bulging bicep-ed arms. 

Rusty let out a breath harshly in an exhale as Brock hugged him tightly, this time, taking his own turn burying his face in the crook of the scientist's neck. He gently raised a hand up to pat the man on the back, surprised by the emotive expression coming from the man. Then again, they had been in a dangerous situation, emotions were high.

Brock leaned back and peered into his eyes, his own so shockingly full of devotion and affection that Rusty's heart nearly dropped out of his chest. “You okay?”

“I... think so. Yes.”

“'Kay.”

The man sat back as if to let him carry on with his night and so he did, standing and turning to head up the stairs. He was startled by the trailing of the blonde behind him, shutting off the lights with a clap of his hands as he following him up the stairs.

“What are you doing?” Rusty turned and asked him. 

“It's late. We should go to bed.”

Something in him spurred him to question the man's intentions, to maybe scowl and insist he was babying him or to just laugh the whole situation away with awkwardness. But instead, he nodded, turning to head up the stairs and to his bedroom, not surprised when Brock followed right behind.

As they lay in bed that night, Rusty tried to push his mind away from the vision of his father's face once more. He rolled onto his side, feeling anxious, his mind racing. 

Brock scooted forward from behind and wrapped his arms around his waist to bring him closer forcing them into a big-spoon-little-spoon. “Goodnight, Doc.” The man whispered into his ear gently, then seemed to relax his grip just slightly indicating he was serious about sleep.

Mind no longer occupied by his father, Rusty instead turned to the recent development between the two of them. The man was still seeing that Wariana woman and the super scientist had thought it was a sharp nail in the coffin that was their once-upon-a-time-ago “fairy tale”. 

Perhaps, he was wrong as it was him who the man was clinging to at this late hour. It was him that the man always came running to when there was danger. It seemed to always be him.

Feeling too fatigued to continue the racing thoughts, Rusty began to drift off to sleep, intent on worrying about everything outside the bedroom tomorrow. For now, he had the love of the man next to him to help him feel safe and protected.

Who needed the universe anyway?


End file.
